


The 5 Stages Of Grief

by innertimetraveldetective



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie Is a Good Bro, Angst, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Post-Episode: s05e14 The Devil Complex, angry Daisy, mama may, please don't attack me, this is very pro daisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innertimetraveldetective/pseuds/innertimetraveldetective
Summary: Thank you @daddyduck286 for beta reading! :DFollows Daisy after The Devil Complex, and a conversation she has about it with Fitz because they never really addressed it and I'm salty.CWs for blood, dissociation, non-consensual surgery (obviously)
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons/ Leo Fitz (mentioned), Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	The 5 Stages Of Grief

Daisy wasn’t quite sure what the time was. She hadn’t let Simmons look over her stitches before rushing to one of the empty bunks on the lower levels. She wasn’t ready for any of them to be anywhere near her. Not after him. She’d collapsed onto the bathroom floor, on her hands and knees. She crawled over to the bath and leaned against it. The cool tiles felt nice under her sweaty hands, despite the pain from her neck being next to blinding.

‘I will never forgive you.’ Those had been her exact words. She could barely hear them, not over the sound of her heart racing in her ears. She honestly believed them to be true. She couldn’t. He’d taken away her choice, her right to choose. He’d tied her down, drugged her, and cut into her. If she was being perfectly honest, she didn’t want to forgive him. He didn’t deserve it. Not after what he’d done. He’d betrayed her. He’d betrayed them all. 

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Some part of her wanted to go and find him. To yell at him, to scream, to make him understand. Another part of her felt sick at the concept of being in the same room as him again. Of being that close to him, giving him that opportunity again.  
Her joints were becoming stiff against the coolness of the bathroom. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to be ready if he came back. She began to pace around the bunk, hands fidgeting to distract from their shakiness, teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek. Her head ached. She briefly considered going to find some water somewhere, but she couldn’t be near the rest of them. Realistically, she knew that May, Jemma, Mack wouldn’t hurt her, but somewhere in her brain was a little alarm bell, scolding her for being so trusting before.  
She could taste blood. She sighed, walking back into the bathroom to swill out her mouth. It had been an old habit, a replacement for biting her nails after she’d been berated for it constantly at Saint Agnes’s. Now her cheek hurt. Great. 

She flopped onto the unmade bed. It was just a mattress, no sheets on it. She didn’t mind. She was physically as far away from him and everyone else as she could get. She drifted into a restless sleep.

She slowly came to. She was uncomfortable, her hands were pinned by her thighs. This was uncomfortably familiar. She felt a cool metal around her head, a table beneath her. Her eyes were foggy. As they focused, His face became clearer. She saw His face and tried to scream. Nothing happened, no sound came out. She tried to yell, to kick, anything to get Him away from her. This couldn’t happen. She tried to thrash around, for the first time since she’d heard the name ‘Destroyer of Worlds’ wishing she had her powers back. She tried to scream, to plead with him, to beg him. All that came out was a strangled, animalistic noise. There was no Jemma this time. It was just Him. She felt Him make the cut, the pain sending her vision into a spinning blackness. She retched. He continued. She could feel Him pulling it out of her, the only thing protecting the Earth, billions of people, gone. Tears sprung into her eyes. She couldn’t scream, or cry for help, or even fight. He was in control, He was in charge. She just laid there as He ignored her pleas.  
She jerked awake, tears running down her cheeks, the room shaking. She got up, slammed the door open. He was going to pay.  
She stormed down to the control room, the quakes following her. She knew that if May were here, she’d tell her to control her emotions. He’d taken her right to control. That was just unfortunate for him. 

She checked all the Lighthouse cameras, eventually spotting him in a cell higher up. She quaked the door open. He jumped up as she entered.  
“Daisy! I-” She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want his excuses. She was dimly aware that the room was still shaking. That was his fault too.  
An icy kind of coolness spread across her. She pulled out a chair, gesturing for him to sit across from her. He tentatively sat down across from her, not looking her in the eye.

“You’ve been betrayed.” She said, matter of factly.

“I’m-” 

“No.” She told him simply. 

“My turn to talk.” He just nodded, eyes fixed on the table.  
“I know you’ve been betrayed. I was there for it. I’ve watched as Ward tried to explain away his actions with words about ‘the greater good’. I’ve watched as you stuttered and stammered over your words to try to explain to him, to yell, to try to make him understand. I’ve watched you hurt when you couldn’t. I watched as you lost control of yourself, unable to explain or protest. And I just had to live through you doing the exact same fucking thing to me. I laid there, pinned to a table as you deprived me of my ability, of my right to control, to say no. And you sit there, trying to justify your actions? The only difference between you and Ward is that he didn’t need an evil alter-ego to do it.” Her voice was harsh, she didn’t allow herself any tears, or him any mercy. He’d taken that from himself the minute he’d drugged her. She knew he was crying. 

“I’m sorry, Daisy. I’m not sorry for what I did. It needed to happen. It was the only way. I am sorry for us. I sacrificed our friendship. You were a sister to me, and I know, I know that you can’t forgive me, but I stand by the fact that it was the right thing to do. ” His voice was broken. 

“The right thing to do? You drugged me, tied me down and cut into me and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I’m sorry but it was the right thing to do’? You betrayed me, my trust, and our friendship, and I will never forgive you.” Her voice was dangerously low.

“It’s not like you’ve never betrayed the team. You’ve hurt people too.” He said carefully.

“Do you mean the time the evil alien parasite overtook my brain or the time my boyfriend died and I left so that you’d all be safer without me around?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “At least I never tried to blame anyone but myself for my actions, never tried to justify hurting people because it was ‘the right thing to do’. And you’re right. I will never forgive you. We will never be friends again, let alone family.”

She left, slamming the door behind her, hurrying back to her bunk before the tears could fall. She collapsed into her bed, pulling the duvet tight around her, making sure to have an eye on the door. 

She cried to herself, thumb rubbing her shoulder for some sensation. She could feel the pain in her neck. She knew she’d eventually have to let Jemma look at her stitches, or at least May, but she couldn’t fathom the idea of letting anyone close, not yet. 

She cried for herself. She cried for Him. She cried for them, what they’d had, how he’d ruined it. She found herself wondering, what if he’d asked first; what if she’d wanted it; what if she’d never had it in the first place; what if it had been Jemma, or Mack. What if he was right? Her tears had subsided, she lay staring at the door, buried in her nest of duvet. Even the thought of what he did, what she had to carry now, being even remotely excusable made her sick. What was she doing? Lying there, making excuses for Him? She considered finding May, she’d know what to say, but Daisy stayed put. She’d see May later. She’d come looking for her eventually. Technically, Daisy was in charge, with Coulson gone. 

A cold hand took her stomach and twisted it. Coulson. She longed for him in that moment, briefly angry at him for disappearing, mostly yearning to be held by him, for his comfort. He’d tell her that no one was asking her to forgive Him. He’d tell her that what He’d done was awful, he’d say that he was there for her, and that would be all she’d need.  
Someone knocked on the door. Daisy bolted upright, pushing the duvet away from her, hands out, ready to quake whoever it was. 

“Daisy? We need you in control.” it was May. She sighed and got up, 

“Come in.” she said. May put in the code and opened the door to Daisy standing before her, hands ready to quake. Her heart broke a bit, seeing her bloodshot eyes. 

“Did you sleep?” She asked, although she already knew the answer. Daisy shook her head slightly, not taking her eyes off May. 

“Ok. We need you in control.” she repeated, 

“First we’re going to the kitchen, then I’m going to need to replace your bandage and clean the cut at the very least.” Daisy tensed. May started to walk away, so she followed, nothing quite breaking through the ice to reach her. It was as though a sort of mist was barring her from May. They arrived in the kitchen. May walked over to make herself some tea, leaving Daisy to get what she wanted. She poured herself a mug of coffee with shaking hands, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to keep food down. The aching that had resided in her stomach for the night ceased, instead a dullness took her over. 

She followed May to the medbay. She gestured for her to take a seat on the bed but Daisy refused. 

“He-” Daisy started, her voice sounding too young and scared to ever be her, but May seemed to understand. It hurt her, that Daisy thought she could ever do that to her, but she understood. He’d tied her down on the gurney, the hospital bed must’ve felt too similar. 

“You wanna sit on the bench or on the floor?” May asked. Daisy just hopped up onto the counter. 

“I’m going to tie your hair back, is that ok?” May asked her. She just nodded a bit, tensing her muscles. She didn’t want to flinch, or scream, or cry. She just sat there, basking in her numbness as May carefully peeled off the bandage. Everything felt unfamiliar. Her hands looked all wrong. She stared at them as May worked, studying them. She knew she used to bite her nails when she was younger, but she felt disconnected from that person. Mary. Even Skye felt so far away now. 

“Okay, I’m done.” It sounded like she was underwater, listening from under the blue mass. She started to cry, lifting shaky hands to look at them, so unfamiliar. 

“Daisy? What’s going on?” She looked up to May, but it wasn’t May looking back at her. Her features were distorted, she looked all wrong, like nothing belonged to May. She began to panic, small quakes starting again. It was wrong, it was all wrong. She heard voices around her, surrounding her, they all sounded wrong, weird, like someone had put a filter over the entire world. 

“Hey, tremors.” Tremors. She knew tremors. Mack called her that. She looked up to see him kneeling one one knee in front of her, offering her his hands. She took them, watching as he held them tightly. She watched him hold them, so why didn’t it feel right? 

“Mack?” Someone else’s voice said. 

“Yeah, it’s me” She felt herself hopping down from the counter to collapse into him. He sat down next to her, letting her bury her head in his shoulder, rubbing her back. They were leaning against the bench she’d been sitting on.

“It’s all wrong, why’s it all wrong?” She muttered. 

“I don’t know, tremors, but I’m here, I got you.” he told her. She cried into him, keeping her eyes closed. She didn’t like the world, how wrong it looked, how cold it was.

“Daisy, can you look at me?” She recognised this voice. This was Jemma. Jemma had been there. Jemma loved Him. She didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see whatever expression would be lurking behind her eyes. She looked up at Mack instead. He smiled down at her. 

“Hey, tremors. How you doing?” His face looked better now.

“Well, I’m crying in your arms on the floor, so I think we can both safely assume that I’m not too fabulous.” She stage whispered to him, still not wanting to look at Jemma.  
He chuckled a bit and looked over to Jemma. 

“You wanna tell us what’s happening?” May must have stayed, because Daisy could hear her voice. She turned slowly, searching the room for her. Her eyes skimmed over Jemma, who was kneeling beside her, to May, who was sitting about a metre in front of her.

“I-I don’t know. I talked to Him and then I went back to my room. Then you were there and I got coffee, but the world all felt wrong. You were sorting out my bandage and my hands looked like they were someone else’s. Then I didn’t recognise you and I guess that just kind of set me off.” 

“I think you had a dissociative episode. It’s common after trauma.” Jemma’s smooth voice came from beside her. Daisy looked at the floor. Jemma laid a hand on her shoulder. 

“I know it’s hard right now, but he’s not here. You’re okay.” Jemma rubbed her back before leaving. Daisy looked up.

“Jemma,” she called out, her voice croaky,

“Thank you.” She said, finally looking her in the eye.

“I’ll be in control when you’re ready.” May said, getting up to leave. Daisy nodded. She sat in silence with Mack for a while. She wondered where Jemma stood, if she’d spoken to Him since. She didn’t want Jemma to go through any more. They were sisters, she loved her like family. She’d been through enough. 

“I saw what he did, tremors. I’m here if you need me.” Mack said, breaking her train of thought. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I was so powerless.” She said. She wanted to sound strong. She couldn’t. 

“I know. You’ll get through it. You’ve always been okay. You’ve got me, and May and Simmons with you. We’re working on getting Coulson back, so you’ll have him soon too. She nodded. 

“I know. Thank you.” she started to get up, wiping her face with her sleeve. 

“I’ll be down with Yo-Yo if you need anything.”

“Right. How is she? Did the surgery go okay?” She asked, suddenly feeling selfish for not asking sooner. 

“She’s still asleep, but she’ll be able to test out her new arms when she wakes up.” He told her.

“Later, tremors.” He said, turning the corner. 

She took a deep breath and headed to control. She thought about Him. Fitz. She thought about Jemma. She considered her family. She didn’t like to think about him.  
Her min involuntarily wandered to the Gurney. To Him. She felt Him cutting into her, her foggy eyes stinging. She took a deep breath. Her legs were carrying her towards control. She slumped down into her spinny chair and propped her legs on her desk. She closed her eyes briefly. The thought of Him being free sickened her. She heard May walk in and start talking. She ignored her. She couldn’t say she hated him. She didn’t even dislike him. She hated what He’d done to her, hated how He’d done it, hated how bruised Jemma had looked. She’d never forgive Fitz. Not for this. But maybe, just maybe, she could learn to live with the burden he’d handed her.


End file.
